


A Secret's Worth

by schizoauthoress



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Brothers, Gen, Kid Fic, Pre-Canon, death mentions because the family business is a funeral home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 13:12:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14716718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schizoauthoress/pseuds/schizoauthoress
Summary: Mark wants to share something with Kane.  Sure, it's bending the rules about where they should be during a funeral, but they won't be harming anybody if all goes as planned.Prompt: Write a story including a set of three things - #6: "a protest, a child, a ring"





	A Secret's Worth

**Author's Note:**

> Death Valley, California is located in Inyo County. The current Inyo County Coroner became such in 1980. Paul Bearer's claim of keeping the Undertaker's secret (regarding the funeral home fire) for twenty years was made in 1997, meaning the funeral home must have burned down in 1977. I wasn't able to find any information on the coroner's predecessor, so I made it Mr. Calaway because I'm insufferable about fitting bits of reality into my stories.

_"A brother shares childhood memories and grown-up dreams."  
\-- Unknown_

"No." Kane Calaway said, firmly planting his feet once he realized where his older brother was leading him. He might not have started school yet, which his big brother Mark was fond of pointing out, but he wasn't dumb. There was a funeral being held today, and the chapel on the grounds was off limits. (Their father, William Calaway, took his job as the Inyo County Coroner quite seriously, and wanted to present the most professional image of their business that he could whenever possible.)

Mark stopped, gave a sigh, and tugged on Kane's arm. "Come _on_ , Kane. You wanted to hang out with me, right?" Most times, he could reason with Kane just like one of the other kids in his third grade class. But times like this reminded Mark that Kane was much younger.

"But Momma and Daddy said we're not old enough to help out, so stay away from the chapel when they're working," Kane said.

"Nobody is going to see us, and we won't be bothering the family," Mark argued, meaning the family who was burying somebody today. He pointed at the back door to the chapel. "That's why we're going in that way. We just have to be real quiet when we're inside."

"I don't want to get in trouble!" Kane declared. The brothers locked gazes stubbornly, as if they could silently impose their will on each other in a staring contest. Eventually, Mark dropped Kane's hand and put his hands on his hips, giving another aggrieved sigh as he broke eye contact.

"Don't you trust me?" Mark asked, sounding hurt. The tone made the fierceness of his four-year-old brother's glare subside slightly. Encouraged by that softening, Mark continued, sounding calm and reasonable, "I sneaked into the chapel before, Kane. Just a couple times, but nobody caught me."

"Not Momma?"

"Nope."

Kane pressed, "Not Daddy?"

"He never saw me," Mark answered confidently.

"Not even Uncle Paul?" Kane asked. When he was present for funeral services, Paul Bearer often seemed like he was in three places at once. He seemed to know everything that was going on at the Jacobs & Calaway Funeral Home from the moment that he set foot on the grounds. It was spooky, and both Calaway boys were just a little wary of him, despite how nice he was to them.

Mark deflated slightly and admitted, "He wasn't here those times."

Kane crossed his arms over his chest, like he'd seen Momma do when she was very serious, because he wanted Mark to know that he was very serious right now. "Uncle Paul could catch us. And then we'll be in trouble."

Mark made a frustrated sound. "Oh, you're no fun!" He turned his back on Kane and grumbled, "I should've known it was no good to let a little scaredy baby in on my secret!"

"I'm not a baby!" Kane shouted. 

Mark immediately turned around, gazing at the surrounding grounds nervously -- they were pretty close to the chapel, and the adults were setting everything up in there. The priest might be arriving as well, coming up from one of the churches in Lone Pine. If they were caught now, they'd probably be sent up to their rooms for the duration of the funeral.

Mark held a finger to his lips and said, "Shh!" and without waiting for Kane's reaction, pulled his little brother back down the path away from the chapel. Kane shushed, with the realization that being caught close to the chapel might make the adults suspicious. The two brothers ducked behind a nearby large memorial and peered toward the chapel.

No one came out to check on the noise. It seemed that nobody had heard Kane's yell.

Mark and Kane exchanged a relieved look. If the adults saw them now, they'd both get in trouble. Kane completely forgot that he'd been against going into the chapel. Now, it was just exciting that they'd avoided getting caught so far.

"We've got to be careful," Mark whispered, "and _quiet_."

Kane nodded. "I can be quiet," he whispered back. Then, thinking of a story he'd read, he added softly, "Quiet as a mouse."

Mark grinned, giving Kane a little poke as he said, "Johnny Town-Mouse!" Kane smiled back -- that was the story he'd been thinking of. Mark was good at figuring out what Kane meant, even if Kane didn't say much.

The brothers waited for a little while longer, until Mark was satisfied that no one would be able to see them sneaking around.

"Let's go," he whispered to Kane. Kane nodded and followed Mark in silence. They went along the grass again, because it made less noise than walking on the path of paving stones. Kane felt like one of the secret agents in the spy show that Daddy used to watch late on Saturday night.

They were close to the door when Mark signaled that Kane should wait nearby. Kane froze in place. He considered holding his breath, but dismissed it as a silly idea when he saw that Mark wasn't doing it.

Mark went to the back door and pushed it open, just enough to peek inside. Then, once he was satisfied that nobody was in that back hallway, he looked over his shoulder and beckoned to Kane. Kane hurried over to Mark's side, and Mark ushered the younger boy inside first.

Kane waited until Mark had shut the door -- very, very quietly -- and gave his big brother a questioning look. 

Mark held a finger up to his lips again. Kane echoed the gesture. Satisfied that Kane still understood the need for quiet, Mark pointed at the door which led to the stairs he wanted, then took Kane's hand in his own.

Once they'd gotten through the second door, Mark leaned down and whispered, "The stairs are squeaky. You have to step where I step."

"Okay," Kane said softly. He watched very closely as Mark went up the first four stairs. When Mark stopped and looked back at him, Kane walked up to the third stair, stepping exactly where Mark had walked. Mark gave a satisfied nod.

It was slow going, of course, but that just made it feel all the more thrilling. Whatever secret thing that Mark wanted to show Kane must be really special.

At the top landing of the stairs, Mark grabbed Kane's hand and led the way along a narrow corridor. The brothers squeezed past an old sewing table that had a thick layer of dust atop it. It must have been stashed here a long time ago. Kane used his free hand to cover his nose, worried the dust might make him sneeze and give them both away. 

A pair of metal file cabinets were stored beside the table, and then the corridor opened up into a gallery that sat opposite of the long wall of stained glass windows. It had been used as storage space for a long time, rather than as an observation deck like originally intended. Mark crouched down beside something covered in a sheet and raised the edge of the sheet. It was a narrow table with one broken side stretcher, and it was right against the rail of the gallery. There was space underneath the long, narrow table for both boys to hide.

Kane looked at Mark. Mark pointed to a spot underneath the table, then again when Kane frowned, confused. After a moment, Mark rolled his eyes and crawled beneath himself, with just his legs sticking out. Kane followed after, lying down beside his brother.

Mark lifted the edge of the sheet that was close to the rails, and the Calaway boys could see the chapel floor below. Their father was speaking with the priest, in low tones that didn't carry up to the gallery. Their mother was seated at the Hammond tonewheel organ, working the pedalboard to get the settings the way she wanted it.

"Momma's teaching me how to play, too," Mark whispered to Kane. "Someday, it's gonna be you and me doing this stuff. I wanted you to see now."

Kane took hold of a rail in each hand and pressed his face close to them, peering downward. He imagined Mark sitting at the organ, and himself talking to the priest like Daddy was doing. It would be nice, working together like that, doing the job that Momma and Daddy were doing right now. It was an important job, like Momma said, helping people say goodbye to their loved ones the right way.

Even if they had to dress up in suits like Daddy and Uncle Paul. Kane didn't like it when Momma dressed him up fancy like that, because it made him feel stiff and silly. But maybe he'd get used to it when he was a grown up. Daddy seemed pretty comfortable in a suit, and he wore one almost all the time.

The boys watched as their Uncle Paul walked in. He spoke to their father, soft and solemn.

The two undertakers nodded to the priest and then left the chapel. Kane worried that maybe Uncle Paul had realized he and Mark weren't playing down the hill where they were supposed to be, and looked over at Mark. Mark smiled easily at Kane and patted his hand comfortingly, without a word. Kane felt better, and smiled back.

Momma started playing softly as people began to enter the chapel. It wasn't a slow song, it wasn't a fast song, and it wasn't exactly sad, but it made Kane feel quiet inside. He watched as everyone filed in and found their seats.

"Here's the part where they carry the casket in," Mark whispered. "Dad and Uncle Paul help."

"Like we will," Kane whispered back.

"Yup." Mark glanced at the front door, then at the back of the chapel. "Momma's gonna switch songs now. It's gonna be loud at first."

Kane was grateful for the warning. And Mark was right, when Momma switched to the funeral march, it was very different from the soft song she'd played at first. The opening notes seemed to ring from the rafters, like a tolling bell (which their chapel actually lacked). The double doors at the front of the chapel swung open, and the pallbearers entered, carrying the casket between them.

A lot of people down in the pews started crying more openly. Kane didn't feel right looking at them. Instead, he gazed at the priest, who was waiting calmly as the pallbearers made their way down the main aisle. Kane listened quietly as the priest talked about the person who'd died, and about life after death.

He didn't understand a lot of it, and Mark didn't make any comments. But this Irma sounded like a nice lady, and the priest was sure that she was going to Heaven. So that probably made her family feel better, even if they missed her.

Mark whispered again to explain what would happen next, just before Daddy and Uncle Paul went to open the casket for the viewing. Inside, Irma looked peaceful -- like she was just resting. Daddy was good at making people look nice for the viewing, down to imitating the way that the women did their makeup in life. The families always commented on how lifelike and peaceful their deceased relatives looked.

The boys watched in silence as the family members and friends walked up, taking their final looks and saying their goodbyes. One of the children, a boy who looked to be about Mark's age, was refusing to go up and "say goodbye to Great-Grandma", despite the way that the woman holding his hand was insisting he should. 

Mark and Kane exchanged a glance of mutual condescension. Kids who hadn't grown up like them were scared of death and dead people. But the Calaway boys would never act like that. To them, it was such a silly thing to be afraid of, and making a scene like this other boy was completely strange and unnecessary. 

They watched as Momma rose from her seat at the organ and walked over to the boy. She crouched down and spoke quietly to him. When she was done, the boy glanced at the woman holding his hand. Kane could see his mouth move.

"I think he's saying sorry," Mark murmured.

"I wonder what Momma said," Kane said into Mark's ear.

They watched as the boy and the woman finally made their way to Irma's casket, and the boy was much calmer now.

"I don't know," Mark said softly, "but Momma always knows the right thing to say." Kane nodded in agreement.

Kane knew what was coming next. He and Mark had watched this part from one of the second story windows of the funeral home before. The priest would lead the way out of the chapel to the gravesite, and the pallbearers would follow after with the closed casket, with the mourners bringing up the back of the procession. The boys lapsed back into silence until Momma, following the mourners, closed the main double doors of the chapel behind her.

"We'll wait a little bit, then go back downstairs," Mark whispered. Kane felt nervous again, but Mark reached out and patted his hand. His big brother said, "Nobody saw us. It's fine."

Kane wasn't sure how Mark decided when it was safe to leave their hiding spot. But he followed without comment as Mark crawled out from under the table, waiting patiently as Mark fixed the sheet back to the way it was. Kane followed quietly as Mark squeezed past the file cabinets and sewing table, and obediently copied the sequence of places to step when Mark slowly made the way down the stairs. Mark opened the door to the back hallway, and Kane checked to see that nobody was in the hallway, just like Mark had when entering the chapel. 

Kane mouthed silently, "Nobody there," and Mark nodded at him. Kane felt good, knowing that Mark trusted him, and walked confidently to the back door that they'd entered at the start of their little adventure. He waited until Mark was standing right behind him, and pulled the door open.

Paul Bearer was standing on the path, completely blocking their way. He smiled down at them.

"Hello, boys."

For a moment, Kane forgot to be scared, and whipped his head toward Mark to glare at his big brother. He hissed, "I _told_ you Uncle Paul could catch us!"

Mark was regarding Uncle Paul with wide eyes, but at Kane's hissed comment, he glared right back at his little brother. "Oh, shut up!"

"Now, now," Uncle Paul wagged a finger at them, "don't you boys start fighting."

"You're gonna tell on us to Momma and Daddy!" Kane protested.

"I should, shouldn't I?" Uncle Paul said with a smile.

"Daddy didn't want us to bother anyone," Mark argued, "and we didn't. We stayed out of the way."

"But _not_ out of the chapel, which I know your daddy specifically said to you," Uncle Paul pointed out. He studied their crestfallen faces for a long moment, then sighed dramatically. "Oh, but it _would_ be a shame if you boys were grounded for the rest of my visit, wouldn't it?"

Kane gave Uncle Paul his best innocent, hopeful look. Uncle Paul chuckled, and shook his head a little.

"Oh, all right. You two were very quiet. I suppose I only noticed you because I looked up, so no harm done. It'll be our secret."

Kane beamed at Uncle Paul, and beside him Mark gave a relieved sigh. They glanced at each other and then said, more or less in unison, "Thank you, Uncle Paul!"

Uncle Paul reached out and patted them each on the head in turn. Then he stepped off the pathway, giving them back their escape route. "You're welcome, boys. Run along now."

Knowing that they'd only narrowly escaped a punishment because of Uncle Paul's mercy, the Calaway boys did as they were told and ran along the path and down the hill where they ought have been the whole time.

Three can keep a secret, right?

*-*-*-*-*


End file.
